


to kisskiss you

by summerofspock



Series: why must itself up every of a park (the ee cummings cycle) [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Captain wants Spock in his quarters at 2100 hours and Spock doesn't dare disobey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to kisskiss you

**Author's Note:**

> A Sequel to [ toctic difference ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/859497)

I leave my quarters fifteen minutes early. Meditation has not come easily since my encounter with you on the bridge. When I shut my eyes, I see you rising up beneath my mouth, the crystalline blue of your eyes piercing into mine and I find myself growing warm deep inside. It is a warmth I am unaccustomed to. The brief relationship I had shared with Lieutenant Uhura had never inspired such reaction. I want to purge the remaining fire from my veins, but you have ordered me to your quarters an hour before midnight. A proper first officer does not disobey an order.

I stand before the entrance to your quarters and will my heart to beat as steadily and surely as I know how. In the near-silence of the passage, I am utterly calm.

You answer my page promptly, the usual grin on your face and I enter your quarters like I have on so many occasions. Previously our encounters have been intellectual in nature yet I believe this night will be different- if your earlier words on the bridge are any indication. You peer out into the passage briefly before grasping my shirt to pull me into your bedroom. The lights are at thirty percent and the cool human temperature flutters over my Vulcan skin.

You order me to remove my clothes. I comply quickly. We have previously undressed in each other’s company, but I have never seen such a raw look in your eyes before. I gaze into their blue depths and stand, nude, with my usual composure. You walk to me and lick your lips; I carefully watch the pink appendage swipe out, then around leaving a glistening trail behind it. I swallow.

You move behind me so you can trace the line of my shoulders with a delicate finger and, it is not logical, but all of my nerves focus on the single place that digit is touching my skin. I want to lean back into you. I want to crush you against me. I want to sink into your skin and be one.

I remain silent.

I remain still.

 _If I go too far, tell me_ , you breathe into my ear. The warm heat of the words snake over the delicate flesh.

You give me a word. A key to locking this door we have opened. _Pomegranate._

You stay behind me and cup the flesh of backside with your hand; it is a rough gesture that draws a surprised grunt from my lips. You press a kiss against my left shoulder blade and tell me to lie on the bed. Obeying, I realize my genitals have begun to grow, stimulated by the air and your proximity. You press me back into the mattress with a firm hand, indicating I have not obeyed you quickly enough. Playful intent flashes in your eyes and is swept away by a look I can only categorize as ravenous. You spread my thighs and settle your chest between then; the scratch of your black cotton undershirt against my bare flesh delights me. I feel a need for friction and a mounting pressure in my groin. I know you will take your time so I hold tightly onto my desires, not wanting to be robbed of what you will give me next.

You kiss your way from my right knee to the apex of my thigh, biting gently at my hip and then you reach up to caress the small amount of hair in the concave of my chest. The caress becomes a scratch and you drag your nails down my torso. I cry out. It is a curious sensation; painful, yet I am still aroused. You stare at my face, your mouth open, a grin hidden behind your eyes. I can feel your lust in every point of contact between our skins. You glance at my flagging erection and you smirk. I do not know what you plan, but as the unknown bewilders me, it intrigues me. My heart pounds steadily in my side. Then your weight is gone and you are standing by the bed, you trail fingers up my torso tweaking a nipple as you move away.

I make a noise of dissatisfaction which you ignore.

You are not gone for long but when you return you are holding a small bottle and you tell me to turn onto my stomach. I do so hesitantly. I feel hands grasp my wrists and pull them above my head; you wrap them together with your belt and secure it deftly. These bonds are flimsy and I could easily escape. I find I do not wish to.

Your knees nudge apart my thighs and I am saddened that I can no longer watch you work. That sadness is quickly engulfed by surprise when I feel hands press against my anus, parting my backside. The pressure is quickly replaced by the wet heat of your tongue. I find myself biting your sheets and growling as I press back into the sensation. I see stars as you lick your way inside of me and when you pull away I want to rail at you for depriving my release, but you simply bite my left cheek and dig your fingers into my backside before returning to your task. It is slow. It is tortuous. I begin to make sounds I have never heard before as you swirl your tongue slowly inside of me. The gentle pressure mounts.

Time feels slower as we lie together on your bed and I find it difficult to maintain an accurate measure of its flow; it feels like an eternity before you press a finger in next to your tongue and I am able to know the bliss I have been seeking. I grind my hips into the mattress desperate for friction, anything to bring me higher. You stop and grab my hips chiding me for moving against your will. Your hand is sharp against my backside and I moan into your mattress. I demand more. You chuckle, the sound is low and erotic; I have an illogical desire to flip over and take you as you intend to take me. I have the strength to curb this impulse so maintain my stillness beneath you.

You slap me again harder and tell me not to speak unless I say your name. I immediately obey and cry out the appellation I so rarely use. You kiss the place you hit and your warmth is once more gone from me. Then cold, liquid slicked fingers slide into me, a pressure-pain that quickly turns to pleasure. I feel as if you are simultaneously compressing me into myself and pulling me apart; I make small noises that are muffled in the cotton fibers of your bedsheets.

The two fingers begin to spread me wide for you and you make an appreciative noise behind me. The two become three and you work them in a circular motion that seems designed to shoot pleasure directly from the base of my spine to the logic centers of my brain and thoughts become short stutters of impatient agony. Your hand is gone and I hear the zip of your pants before your weight is more fully settled behind me. Your genitals enter me and I feel all of you. It is slow and painful as I stretch around you, but, once you are fully seated, desire to pull you deeper replaces the burn of intrusion. My groan of frustration makes your hips stutter against mine and I murmur your name; you lie down on top of me thrusting hard.

Immediately, you pull me to my knees and grasp my tied hands in front of me. The steady rhythm of your hips makes my head swim. You are still wearing your shirt and I wish you weren’t; I want your skin on mine. You bite my neck and lay open kisses on my shoulder. My muscles begin to burn from the exertion of thrusting back to you in this position. It is like you sense this because you ease out from inside me and I feel sick at the emptiness. You push me onto my back and I rejoice at the red flush of your cheeks and the blue ringed black of your eyes.

You press into me once more, holding my legs against your shoulders. I can feel you everywhere at once and I moan when your begin to stroke my erection with your hand; you match the rhythm of your thrusts to that of your hand and the combined pleasure sends me over the edge I had been avoiding for so long. The intensity causes me to rip your belt in two so I can reach forward to clutch at your hips. I am barely aware that I must be hurting you because all I see in that moment is your face: the blue of your eyes and your blonde hair, the way sweat has begun to line your forehead, and the huffs of breath between your full and rosy lips.

I am spilling over your hand and you slow its speed. Your hips snap harder against me for a few moments, but soon you are orgasming as well; you cry my name at the peak of your climax.

You pull from my body carefully and I feel your absence acutely as our shared fluids spill between us. You stand shakily, pulling up your pants and cross to the bathroom; you take the tattered remains of the belt above my head with you. I have not moved from where you left me; you look me up and down with a small, sheepish smile before wiping my stomach and thighs with a cool cloth. I stare as you toss the cloth into your hamper.

You tell me I can leave whenever I want, but I shake my head and pull you down onto the bed with me.

It crosses my mind that I have not felt your lips against mine and I rectify that situation as well as I know how. You drag your mouth away from me and look into my eyes; I see confusion in your face so I kiss you again. You pull me against your body and pull the rumpled blankets over us. Slowly, you run your fingers through my hair and observe that I never seemed like the cuddling type.

I sleep well cradled against you.

**Author's Note:**

> 9\. by ee cummings  
> there are so many tictoc  
> clocks everywhere telling people  
> what toctic time it is for  
> tictic instance five toc minutes toc  
> past six tic 
> 
> Spring is not regulated and does  
> not get out of order nor do  
> its hands a little jerking move  
> over numbers slowly 
> 
> we do not  
> wind it up it has no weights  
> springs wheels inside of  
> its slender self no indeed dear  
> nothing of the kind. 
> 
> (So,when kiss Spring comes  
> we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss  
> lips because tic clocks toc don't make  
> a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to  
> kiss me)


End file.
